


I Found What I Didn't Know I Was Missing

by InsouciantCastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic destiel, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Schmoop, post 8x23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 03:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsouciantCastiel/pseuds/InsouciantCastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean had been frantic for the 4 months that Cas was missing after the angels fell. But when the angel finally showed up at the bunker, filthy, starving and reeking to high hell, had Dean finally found what he didn't even know he was missing? Or would Cas's tale change everything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Found What I Didn't Know I Was Missing

Cas was standing at the stove with his back to the door, wearing only Dean's boxers, wielding a spatula in one hand. Dean grinned as he watched Cas's hips gyrating to the music that was being fed through his earphones. Leaning a hip against the wooden door frame, Dean let a small smile creep across his face. 

It hadn't been easy living with Cas since the angel fell. Hell, he had been frantic for the four months it took for Cas to show up at the bunker, filthy, unshaven and reeking to high hell. That hadn't stopped Dean from pulling him into a fierce embrace, anymore than it had stopped him in Purgatory when he'd found his angel crouching beside that little stream. 

Dean had clung to Cas, arms wrapped around his shoulders, eyes closed tightly against the tears he could feel starting to form. “God, Cas,” he had rasped. “I didn't think I'd ever see you again. Where the hell have you been, man?” Dean held Cas to him for what seemed like forever, basking in the feel of the former angels hard chest pressed against his, feeling his arms wrap hesitantly around his back, then tighten fiercely. He felt Cas shudder against him, heard a softly whispered “Dean,” then caught him as he started collapsing to the floor. “Whoa, Cas!” he gasped, catching him before he hit the carpet. Frantically searching for an injury, hands running up and down Cas's lean frame (seriously, the dude looked like he hadn't eaten properly for weeks), Dean panicked as he saw Cas's eyes roll back in his head as he fell forward, unconcious.

After carrying him to the nearest bedroom, screaming for Sam the whole way, Dean laid Cas gently onto the bed, panic filling him as he stripped the filthy trenchcoat from Cas's limp frame, still searching for an injury, something to explain why he had passed out in Dean's arms. 

It hadn't taken long for Dean to realize that Cas was simply exhausted and not hurt or dying. Dean spent the next 48 hours beside Cas's bed, watching over the fallen angel as he slept. It had always creeped him out when he'd wake up and Cas would be standing at the foot of the bed, or beside the couch, just watching him sleep. 

He understood now.

There was a peacefulness in the way Cas's face softened in sleep. The lines of his forehead which seemed to be permanently creased were smoothed out now. He looked..younger maybe? Hell, Dean didn't know. How could a bajillion year old angel look young? One thing he did know, was that he sure as hell looked vulnerable, which was scary as hell.

What Dean didn't know is if he was scared because Cas wasn't essentially invincible anymore, or because now that Cas was human, Dean felt an overwhelming urge to gather him in his arms and protect him. Every instinct in Dean screamed at him to make sure that Cas was safe, that he was healthy, and happy. It wasn't the same feelings he had about Sammy though. The protective instinct was the same, but he sure as hell didn't want to gather Sammy in his arms, cover him with his body and kiss away the fear, the loneliness, the misery he had seen in Cas's eyes when he opened the bunker door. 

Dean didn't lie to himself. He knew now why he hurt so much every time Cas left, why the betrayal cut so much deeper. He recognized now that he'd been in love with Cas for a very long time. It only took witnessing the angels streaking from heaven and falling to the earth to realize it. Not knowing where Cas was, if he was alive, if he was safe, nearly killed Dean. He was absolutely frantic for months, searching the internet, grilling other hunters for any scrap of information. He trapped demons, interrogated them for hours, but nothing. No one seemed to know what had happened to him. The other angels he found and talked to couldn't sense Cas either. Or at least that's what they said. Being giant dicks, Dean hadn't put it past them to outright lie about that, except for the fact that they were looking for Cas too. 

Only most of them wanted Cas dead for what he had done. Dean heard many stories of revenge from other fallen angels. Some of them had loved nothing more than to regale Dean with vivid tales of how they would hunt Castiel across the earth, killing him slowly when they finally caught him. 

Dean had become more and more frantic as time went on. Cas was out there, alone, unprotected and helpless. Well, Dean knew he wasn't completely helpless, I mean come on, the dude was bad ass. He knew how to fight, how to hide. But without his mojo, Dean was terrified that he wouldn't be strong enough to battle the hoards of pissed off angels that were after his ass. 

Cas had slept for a full 48 hours.

Dean barely left the room.

So, he was there when Cas finally blinked his eyes open. Green eyes found blue as relief poured through Dean at seeing his angel alive, healthy and thank God, conscious. Blinking rapidly in an attempt to stem the tears, Dean reached out and grasped the hand that was laying on top of the purple comforter he had placed over Cas's sleeping form two days ago. “Hey,” he breathed. “Good to see you again. How're you feeling?” He felt Cas's hand clench in his own, gripping so tight it was almost painful. 

“Dean,” he rasped. The tip of a pink tongue peeked out to run lightly across chapped lips. “I wasn't sure if it was a dream, or not.”

Well, Dean thought wryly to himself, the staring thing hasn't changed. He chuckled softly in the quiet of the room. “No, dude. Not a dream, just me.” Reaching out, he ran a hand across Cas's forehead pushing back the locks that had fallen forward.

“Close enough,” Cas's rough voice echoed in the room, even though he had almost whispered the words. Words that changed everything. 

He realized right then that Cas had feelings for him. Feelings was such a prissy word for it, Dean argued with himself again and again, but he couldn't think of a better way to phrase it. Dean loved Cas, he wouldn't lie about that. But Cas? He was an enigma. He cared for Dean, definitely. He wanted Dean. That was evident the way Cas had clung to Dean when he leaned forward and pressed their lips togeher. A sharp intake of breath and suddenly a simple caress of lips became so much more. Breathlessly, Dean canted his head again and again, working Cas's mouth open and licking inside. A groan tore from Cas as he gripped frantically at Dean's shirt, pulling him down until he lay on top, their bodies slotting together perfectly. Dean's hips ground into Cas's, causing both men to shudder and grip tighter, the kiss becoming more and more frantic, hands desperately trying to find bare skin, somewhere to touch, to feel each other. Finally, to be able to stroke and tease. 

 

Dean tore his mouth away from Cas reluctantly. Pressing his forehead to Cas's he took in several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Shit, he hadn't meant to basically ravish the man. He's just woken up for crying out loud. “Cas. Oh man, I'm sorry,” he muttered as he pulled away from Cas's grasping hands. He carded his hand through his hair and stared down at the man whom he just realized was the exact centre of his entire fucking universe. Turning abruptly, he threw another jumbled apology over his shoulder and left the room, closing the door with a click behind him.

Later that day, Cas had come out of the bedroom, freshly showered and apparently starving. The three of them sat at the table located in the centre of the bunker's kitchen and Cas told the brothers his story, starting with Metatron ripping his Grace from his body. 

He talked about waking up, alone, and frighteningly human in the woods outside of Maine, waking up just in time to watch the angels fall. He told of his journey, of walking until his black dress shoes wore through and he'd had to find a Salvation Army to replace them. 

He talked of the kindness of the strangers he met. He was alone, with no money, unable to find a job (he'd been an angel for crying out loud. You can't exactly put that on a resume) yet he rarely went hungry. Families would take him in for a night or two, feed him, wash his clothes, give him a bed to sleep in. But always, Cas kept travelling toward Kansas, toward what he knew was his home. 

His face softened when he told of Lynne, the little girl he met in Pennsylvania. She was four, with soft brown eyes, chubby cheeks and blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail by a harried mother. He had been sitting on a park bench, resting for a while, simply watching the children play, trying to lose himself in their carefree innocence. Lost in his own thoughts, his sorrow at what he had done, he hadn't noticed the little girl slide onto the bench next to him. It wasn't until she tugged on the arm of his trenchcoat that realized he wasn't alone anymore.

A soft smile crept across Cas's face when he told of how he had sat on the bench, talking with Lynne and not long after, Lynne's mother, Andrea, for hours, watching the afternoon sun fade into dusk. She was a young, single mother, only 22. Lynne's father wasn't around, had left when Andrea told him he was pregnant and she'd never heard from him again. She had raised Lynne completely by herself, with help from her parents. The two of them lived in a small apartment in Andrea's mother and fathers house. Cas's eyes dropped to the table when he spoke of spending three weeks with the young mother and her daughter. They had become close, he whispered. It was tempting to stay with them. His blue eyes flicked from the wood surface of the table and caught Dean's. He couldn't hold his gaze long, though, dropping his eyes to stare at the whorled surface his hands were resting on. 

“Why'd you leave, then?” Sammy asked gently. “I mean, if you were happy there, if you could have made a life with them, why'd you walk away?”

“I don't....I don't really really know.” Cas replied haltingly. “I just couldn't stay. It felt like I would be lying to her. I think I could have been happy there, but I don't know if it ever would have been home. And that wouldn't have been fair to her or to Lynne. So, I left. And continued trying to find my way here. I didn't stop again after that. I slept in parks, or homeless shelters. Found food where I could. But really, all I wanted was to get here. I knew if I could find you both, I could finally rest.” Cas leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, running a weary hand down his face. 

“Well, we're glad you found us, man.” Sam unfolded his frame from the chair across from Cas, and reaching out, grasped the fallen angels shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “We were worried about you, Cas.” Sam's eyes flicked to Dean, who was staring intently at the wall over Cas's shoulder. He was still reeling from Cas's story, his struggles. 

And from the fact that he had found himself falling in love. With someone else. With someone he could have had a life with, apart from Dean.

It took Dean another week to finally approach Cas. Dean spent that week wallowing in how pathetic he was. How he was never good enough for anyone, ever. He was just the grunt, the guy that got down and dirty, could hustle pool, gank a demon and knew what bars he could stake out to bring in the most money when he sold himself. He wasn't the type people stuck around for. He wasn't the guy that people made commitments too. He wasn't smart enough, he wasn't good enough for anyone.

He wanted things. Fuck, yes, he wanted, but that's all. Just wanting, never getting. 

Cas.

He wanted Cas. 

A week later, he pulled his head out of his ass and talked to Cas. 

Bringing himself out of his reverie, Dean's smile widened as he remembered how pissed off Cas had been when Dean told him how inferior he felt. How he understood why he'd almost chosen Andrea. He knew he'd never be good enough for an angel, fallen or not. 

Cas may not have his mojo or the steel bar rammed up his ass anymore, but that sure as hell didn't mean he wasn't still strong. Before Dean could blink, Cas had pushed him up against the wall, one arm braced across Dean's chest, and was leaning in close, so close, that Dean couldn't see anything other than blue. It was a familiar position. Dean tensed, waiting for the first blow to fall, like it had in the alleyway so many years ago. 

“Don't you ever let me hear you say things like that about yourself again Dean.” Cas growled, his breath fanning over Dean's cheek. “I may not be an angel anymore, but I still remember. I can still see the way your soul glowed in the pit. You are good, Dean. You are precious, and you are special, and you are the only one who can't see that.” Cas dropped his arm and stepped away from Dean, leaving him gaping as he leaned heavily on the wall. “Do you know why I didn't stay with Andrea? Because her eyes were brown, not green. Her hair was long and blonde, not short and brown. She wore dresses, not jeans and plaid.” He turned away from Dean in frustration. “Don't you get it?” he whispered. “I love you Dean Winchester. I fell in love with you the moment I saw your soul in hell.” His voice dropped, so much that Dean had to move away from wall and step closer to Cas, just to be able to hear the words. “I've always loved you, Dean. I never dared to hope that you felt the same. But then, when I woke up, and you....you kissed me, I thought maybe.” Cas brought his hands up to cover his face. “I thought maybe I was finally home. That just once, something I had done had gone right and I was going to be happy.” 

His voice was muffled behind the shaking palms that covered his face, but Dean could still hear. He could hear the pain, the lost hope. Stepping around Cas, Dean reached up and gently pried Cas's trembling hands away from his face, saw the tears that were streaking down his cheeks. Leaning forward he placed a gentle kiss on Cas's forehead and pulled him close. Placing a warm palm on the back of Cas's neck, he tugged gently until the other man's head was resting on the soft material covering his shoulder. 

“I'm sorry, Cas,” he muttered as he pressed a soft kiss into his tousled hair. “I didn't know. I love you so much Cas.” Dean's arms tightened as he felt Cas sob against his shoulder. “Ah, don't cry, Cas. Not over me. Please?” He pulled back slightly, and cupped two warm hands around Cas's ravaged face. He pressed a gentle kiss to Cas's trembling lips and felt his life change in an instant. At that moment, Dean knew that he had found home in the arms of his fallen angel. 

That had been 3 months ago. Three of the happiest months of Deans life. He and Cas had lived in a disgusting state of domesticity. They spent their days together researching, trying to find a way to fix heaven and get the angels back where they belonged. They spent their evenings cuddled together on the couch, while Dean introduced Cas to all his favourite movies. Their nights, they spent wrapped in each others arms, pressing slow kisses into each other skin, stroking, sucking and grinding together until they both collapsed in a sweaty heap. They took time learning each others bodies, what made the other gasp in a shock of desire, what made the other groan harshly, what would drive each other over the edge. 

Cas healed, he gained back the weight he had lost and Dean? Well, Dean watched it all with fondness, sometimes becoming overly protective, but that was his way. He would always be the caretaker, it was drilled into him. There was no changing that. And if Cas was completely honest with himself, he would admit that he didn't really mind it all that much.

Now, as Dean finally pushed himself away from the doorway of the kitchen, an evil grin spreading across his face, Now, was the moment he was finally going to get his revenge. 

Sliding his sock feet across the linoleum floor, Dean sneaked up behind Cas, chuckling to himself as he realized the former angel dressed only in Batman themed boxers was actually dancing and humming along to Beyonce of all things. Dude had no taste in music. Dean had given up trying to convince him of the merits of Led Zepplin. Cas would listen politely, but it was obvious he really didn't care for Dean's collection of mullet rock classics. 

Once he was close enough, Dean reached out both hand, fingers crooked like witches hands, and mercilessly dug his fingertips into Cas's side. He wasn't disappointed by the freakishly girly scream that came from Cas as he dropped the spatula he'd been using as a mic. Cas arched his back, twisting his torso trying desperately to get away from Dean's tormenting fingers, but Dean was relentless in his task. Using his hips, he pinned the squirming man against the stove, running his hands up and down Cas's sides, unerringly finding all the spots that drove Cas crazy. He had mapped these spots out with his tongue. He knew Cas's body better than maybe even Cas himself, so he knew exactly where to apply just the right pressure to drive the man insane. 

“D-D-Dean! Ahhh.....pu-pu-please stop” Cas gasped for breath as he tried to speak, to beg Dean to stop his torture. 

“No way, Cas,” Dean growled in his ear. “This is payback, man. All those times you just poofed in out of nowhere? I'm just lucky I never crashed the Impala. You could have killed me.” Dean was enjoying this so much. He loved that he had power over Cas right now, could reduce him to a wriggling mass of gasping breath and stuttered words. 

“I-I..” Cas gasped around his laughter. “I would....would...would have...s-s-saved you.” he was finally able to gasp out. Finally unable to stand any longer, Cas's legs gave out and Dean followed his to the floor. Working his way around, so he was laying on top of Cas, he continued his torment, only now Cas was fully trapped beneath Dean's heavy frame. 

“Oh yeah? You would've save me, huh? Would that have been before or after I wrapped Baby around a tree. No good, man.” Dean decided to ease up a bit, to let Cas get a few deep breaths. Propped up on his elbows, Dean brought his hands up and brushed the hair away from Cas's face. He lowered his face until their foreheads were pressed together, chuckling softly as Cas struggled to bring his breathing under control. 

Having Cas's half naked body squirming underneath him had been enjoyable in other ways, too. Dean groaned as he flexed his hips, grinding his hard cock against Cas. A gasp escaped the other man, as his eyes darkened. Reaching up, Cas grabbed Dean's head and brought their lips together. Cas arched his back, then pushed his own hips up, letting Dean feel his own hardening cock through the thin material of his boxers. 

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean groaned into the other man's mouth. Pulling back, green eyes found blue and Dean was lost. Again. Fuck his angel was beautiful. Cas's face was flushed from exertion and from desire both. His cheeks were wet from the tears that had streaked down his face while Dean was tickling him. Running his tongue over Cas's cheek, Dean licked the wetness from his lovers face. Using his hands, he angled Cas's head to where he had the best access to his neck and pressed biting kisses along the taut lines, smirking in satisfaction as bruises formed where he sucked. “Mine,” he mumbled, his open mouth tracing along the hollow of Cas's shoulder. “M'gonna mark you up. Everyone will know you're mine” he whispered, sucking another bruise into Cas's chest.

“Yes,” Cas groaned, his head thrown back, neck stretched out. His hands were grasping desperately at Dean's shoulders, hard enough that they were leaving bruises of their own. “Yes, Dean. Yours. Only yours.” Cas moaned.

“God, what you do to me. Do you have any fucking idea how much I love you?” Dean breathed into Cas's taught stomach. 

“Dean,” Cas whispered softly. “I know. I love you too.” 

Dean continued marking his way across Cas's stomach. God he loved watching the bruises swell to the surface under his mouth, marking Cas as his. “Fuck, Cas. You are so fucking hot.” he muttered as he dipped his tongue into Cas' bellybutton. He could feel the tremors under his mouth and felt a thrill that he was the one that taking apart the former angel. 

Growling when he met the waistband of Cas's (Dean's) boxers, Dean lifted himself and practically tore them off his lover. He smiled a dirty smile when Cas' cock bounced free. Gripping the base, he pressed an open mouth kissed to the flushed tip before taking him into his mouth. A load groan was ripped from Cas as Dean swallowed his length, pressing his nose into Cas's groin. 

“Dean,” Cas gasped. “Oh God, Dean, please. Ah..” Dean could feel Cas's fingers scrambling for purchase in his short cropped hair, not finding a place to grip. “Fuck! Dean!” 

Smiling to himself, Dean continued his ministrations on Cas's cock. Letting the tip fall out of his mouth, he placed a filthy open mouthed kiss on the head, running his tongue through the slit, groaning at the taste of pre-come. “You taste so good,” Dean muttered. Fisting Cas's hard cock, he worked his way back up his lovers torso, he pressed an urgent kiss to Cas's open mouth. Licking inside, Dean tried to convey to Cas everything he was feeling, all the love he had for the angel who had chosen him. He still couldn't believe it, even on his best days, but fuck it if he was going to argue. He would spend the rest of his life trying to make sure that Cas was happy, that he never regretted choosing Dean. 

Pulling away, Dean loosened his grip on Cas's cock, chuckling at the whimper that escaped the other mans lips at the loss of contact. 

“Where are you going?” Cas grumbled petulantly.

“Just a second, babe.” Dean pressed a chaste kiss to Cas's lips as he fumbled with the button of his jeans. Catching on, Cas pushed himself up with his elbows and batted away Dean's hand. 

“Uh uh. My job.” Cas leaned forward and brought their mouths together again as he undid the button of Dean's jeans and slowly lowered the zipper. That was the best goddamn sound Dean had heard all morning. Pulling back, Cas stared intently into Dean's green eyes, taking in the flush of his cheeks, the way his pupils were blown wide with desire, as he gently released Dean's hardened cock from his jeans. He traced his fingertips lightly up the side of his length, chuckling low when a groan was ripped from Dean's throat. 

“You're such a tease, Cas” Dean moaned as he pushed Cas back onto the cool linoleum floor. Standing, he quickly removed his jeans, holding them up with one hand as he searched the pockets for the bottle of lube he had hidden there. Just in case. It was always good to be prepared. 

Warming the liquid in his hands, Dean knelt with one leg on either side of Cas's thighs. Tracing his eyes up the other man's torso, lingering on the marks that he had left on his lover, Dean gripped Cas's cock in one hand, spreading the lube over his length. He reached the other hand behind, searching for his hole with one slick finger. Feeling the puckered entrance, Dean closed his eyes, a ragged moan falling from his slack mouth as he pushed in. He pushed his finger in and out, then quickly added another, relishing the slight burn he felt. He was rushing it, he knew that, but it was fine, he liked the burn. Three fingers now, Dean opened his eyes and gasped when he looked at his angel. Cas's mouth had fallen open, his eyes were wide as he watched where Dean's arm disappeared behind his body. He licked his chapped lips and fisted his own cock, catching Dean's glance. “Dean,” he whispered hoarsely. 

“Yeah, babe. I know,” he replied as he pulled his fingers from his body. Positioning himself over Cas's cock, he slowly lowered his trembling body, throwing his head back as he groaned loudly at the stretch, the feeling of fullness that he craved. “Fuck!” he grunted as he bottomed out on Cas's body. Reaching out, he framed Cas's face with both hands and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on his lovers plush lips. Biting gently on his full bottom lip, he ghosted a laugh at Cas's insistant “Move, Dean!” Feeling his hands biting into his hips, Dean complied, feeling Cas's hips jutting forward to his downward thrusts.

The kitchen was filled with their groans, the slap of skin on skin. A sudden movement and Dean found himself with his back on the floor, Cas looming over him, his legs slung over the fallen angels shoulders. He shuddered at the fierce expression on Cas's face. “Dean.” he grunted. “I love you, Dean. So much. God, you can't comprehend how much.” He whispered, placing gentle kisses across his hunters face, as his hips thrust insistently, relentlessly. “I love you so much it terrifies me. Do you know that?” Reaching between their sweat slicked bodies, he grabbed Dean's cock firmly. His hand moved in time with his thrusting hips, ragged breaths torn from both of them. Cas's hips began to stutter, his hand moving faster on Dean's cock. Cas stiffened, spilling himself inside his lover. Dean's hands, which had been grasping deperately at Cas's hips dug in hard enough to leave bruises as white strips painted his stomach. 

Cas collapsed, limp and spent on Dean's chest, not even noticing the come that pooled in his stomach. Tracing his nose along Dean's jaw, he nipped gently then sighed. “Mmm.....” he mumbled happily. “Dean, if this is your way of punishing me, I'm going to have to make sure I misbehave more often. Thank you.” Dean could feel the small, satisfied smile as Cas pressed his face into Dean's neck. 

Running his hands over the same area's that he had not 20 minutes ago used to drive his angel out of his mind, Dean huffed a laugh. 

“Anytime, angel.” he murmured as he pressed a kiss into the mess of hair tickling his cheek. “Any fucking time.”


End file.
